There was always something
between us left unsaid,
a trembling silence unable to
stuffy winter-white rooms.
There was always a pause,
always an ellipses undefined,
hovering like fragments
of speech between breaths;
the long, slow minutes building
monuments to themselves
while we waited, hardly aware
that we were doing so.
Whatever it may have been
has long since passed,
along with those others
we once referred to as selves,
two who would not answer
us now, no matter the words,
beautiful or otherwise,
we might choose to speak
or, knowingly, leave out.
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